


His Angel

by thatscarletseven (ScarletCommissium)



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Beetlejuice - Freeform, Betelgeuse, Come Inflation, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletCommissium/pseuds/thatscarletseven
Summary: Based on one of my blog's asks from Tumblr; “So Beej is like some kinda demon right? Then what if the reader would be some kinda angel but she’s a virgin. And if she’s gonna lose her virginity she wants to be the dominant one but she’s just too submissive and she fails. Idk if you want to could you write about that for me?”





	His Angel

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction AND a request. It DOES NOT reflect the author’s real-world values and beliefs. Also, this is smut where the reader is female and gets just a tad sub-spacey. Also also, use of headcannons regarding Betelgeuse’s mood ring hair and excessive ejaculation + glowing ejaculate.

[thatscarletseven](https://thatscarletseven.tumblr.com/post/187975191162/his-angel-smut)

His Angel (Smut)

For the first time in your after-life, you were truly happy. You’d originally been sent by Juno to keep the Maitland-Deetz household safe from Betelgeuse. Every single entity occupying that house loved having you around. You cleaned, cooked, and protected, and you loved doing it. Even when Betelgeuse was integrated into the make-shift family and was no longer a threat, you stayed. You had finally found a home

You’d died as a kid during the black plague. Since your soul was pure, you weren’t just any old ghost or demon in the after-life; you became an angel. Juno raised you like Mowgli was raised among the wolf pack. Even though the black plague had caused a massive influx of angels, most of them had stayed far away from the evils of the underworld. 

In this new spiritual state, you grew to be the beauty of the underworld, just as a flower is in a battlefield. Besides that, you’d proven yourself in mastering your supernatural abilities and in combat. Even though you were witty and clever too, academics were never your strongpoint. You grew to your peak young age and there you stayed, this beautiful thing preserved forever in angelic death. You were eventually assigned to be the guardian angel of the Maitland-Deetz household.

As soon as Betelgeuse was decidedly not evil, you allowed yourself to feel what you’d previously pushed down; you really liked him. Not only was he _sexy as hell,_ he was also exactly your type. Thick in just the right places (there were days you wondered if this extended to _someplace else _as well), and a face that you adored. When he hugged you, you melted into his soft form. Betelgeuse was surprisingly clingy and cuddly, but you didn’t really mind. One of your favorite features about him was his hair. When he was in a lighter mood it was green. When he was lonely it was a purplish blue. When he flirted with you it could be anywhere from a light green to a dark magenta, but that depended on the caliber of the joke. His jokes were often sexual in nature, so you saw something close to magenta quite often.

Thus you embarked on the best chapter of your after-life.

As far as the rat himself was concerned, he’d been lusting after you the day you arrived with the intention of kicking his ass. One of his favorite thoughts was sexually corrupting you, you who were so pure, and probably still had your virginity to lose. He often dreamed of tying you down and filling you up with his seed, or overstimulating you, or biting into and permanently marking your perfect skin, or, or, or- there were just too many good possibilities. However, on his more lonely days, he though of it the other way around; you riding him, holding him down with your angelic power. Completely and utterly using him for your own pleasure. Maybe you’d spank him. Since he was in the privacy of his own room (the basement) at the time this thought first occurred to him, he moaned aloud at the thought. 

One summer evening, the two of you sat outside the house. Lydia had just had a fight with Delia, and tensions between everyone else had been high due to the nature of the argument. Delia had made a snide comment at dinner about how all the living inhabitants of the house “might die someday because of all the ghosts! I mean, what if Betelgeuse decides to go rogue again?”. You and Lydia had immediately jumped to Betelgeuse’s defense, and Lydia was absolutely _livid. _She cut you out of the debate all together, but this gave you time to notice that your favorite demon’s hair was getting progressively bluer. He had also found his family in these people, and to have one of them say something like this must’ve hurt. Though the hair confirmed what he was feeling, his facial expression said it all. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and he was trembling. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little, and you could tell that he needed to get out of here. His literal blue-ness often turned to panic, and panic often snow-balled into rage. You touched his arm lightly, and his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours. If he had been living, the action would’ve been painful. “Take my hand.” you whispered softly to him. Betelgeuse nodded and interlocked his fingers with yours. His grip was tight.

This was how you ended up comforting him. You didn’t touch him and he didn’t touch you. You just sat on the porch next to him, and it was enough.

To you, Betelgeuse seemed like the perfect picture of despair. His blue locks hung over his sad eyes. Old eyes, you realized. Betelgeuse wasn’t young. He probably died in his mid-thirties, but he’d been dead for so much longer. His large frame was hunched over, wide shoulders stooped. He wasn’t wearing his overcoat or his suit jacket, but he’d kept on his suspenders, rolled up his sleeves, and undone his top buttons. If he was a little less sad, he’d be downright sexy.

You were snapped out of your little trance when you heard him say your name softly, “Am I a bad person?” The question hung in the air for a few moments, and then you spoke, “The fact that you’re asking the question means that you probably aren’t.” And that was the beginning of your friendship.

You and him spent more and more time together, and Betelgeuse began seeing you as more than just good jerking-off material. He saw you as another person. He noticed something very human in you despite your angelic state, and you began to see the human in him. You two found laughter in each other. Betelgeuse was particularly amused by you when you kept yourself from cursing. It was only natural, since you were the purest being he’d ever encountered.

You noticed the way he got all giddy over mundane human things. You loved the gross things about him, like his taste in insects. You loved his sense of masculine fashion. You like his eyes - sad, old eyes - and the way they let you in on his internal thoughts even better than his hair did sometimes.

He noticed the way you hid your pain, tucked away where only you and him could see it. He was fascinated by you. He’d always thought angels were little happy babies with wings and halos, but you weren’t. You didn’t have wings or a halo, and you certainly weren’t a child. You just had this calming infectious glow about you.

Everything was fine when you and Betelgeuse were together.

The first time he kissed you, it was a quick peck on the lips and neither of you talked about it. You reciprocated it later that night.

Whenever he got sad, you kissed him.

Whenever you got sad, he’d hug you.

Soft intimacy became part of the normal routine.

True to his nature, soft intimacy grew sexual in private. You didn’t mind, but the thread was getting thinner every time.

One night, Betelgeuse had gotten all sad on you in his basement bedroom. He responded to your soft kiss with a passionate one, and you didn’t mind. He did this often, and it never led anywhere. You and him exchanged soft kisses that quickly heated up. You found that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him. 

“Beej-” you used the nickname that he’d adopted recently. “Beej, I want- “ he kissed you again, “-me too-” You loved his gravelly voice all the more in this situation. His sleeves were rolled up and his suspenders were on and his top buttons were undone the way you liked. His hands pulled you closer and then you were straddling him and you could _feel_ how much he liked this. 

The thread was gonna break soon.

“Lawrence.” He stopped and pulled his face from yours for a moment. Now you only ever used his real name when you were being serious. He growled softly because you were pressed against his junk and this was _so not the time_ _to be serious_. His hair was a sinful shade of pink. “Betelgeuse,” you started again. “I want- shit, I want you, but I-” He’d never heard you curse before and it was _automatically_ a turn-on. He silently vowed to make you curse more often. “I’ve never had sex before but I really wanna ride you.” Well damn, he certainly didn’t expect you to be dominant this early on. “.. Ok.” The demon said simply. “Uh, I don’t think ghosts can get knocked up, just sayin’.” Betelgeuse chuckled.

The thread that suspended your boundaries snapped.

Even though you’d never even gotten _yourself _off, getting naked and being intimate with your demon felt natural and taboo all at the same time. You were experiencing the pent-up sexual energy of the past few hundred years and it was hitting_ hard_. Your entire body was burning with turbulent need, and your core was practically dripping with slick. Your mind was spinning and spiraling with fantasies of what could be that made you all tingly. The feeling was so foreign and wonderful. 

Betelgeuse was almost as needy, feeling so free after using his hand for so long. He’d been so busy in the past couple months that he just willed his boners away instead of dealing with them. 

Even though you had opted to dominate him, you were much too shaky and turned on to do much of anything. He spread you out on his unmade bed and buried his face in your neck. He inhaled sharply, eyes shut as his body convulsed and he _almost_ gave up on foreplay then and there. He shuffled himself downward and spread your thighs apart.

Your slick had made a dark spot on his bed and had cascaded down your thighs. The musky perfume of your slick made his mouth water and he longed to taste you. Betelgeuse hiked your legs up on his shoulders and then his filthy mouth was kissing your cunt. You tasted something like salted dark chocolate to him, a flavor that he quickly became addicted too. He dipped his tongue teasingly into your hole, but payed much more attention to your clitoris. You ground your hips against his face as his short beard scratched the interior of your thighs. The pleasure that sung through your being made you feverishly warm. He sucked and licked and you felt like you were going to piss yourself, but you knew this wouldn’t be the case. You thought you could feel some kind of vibration in your throat and you weren’t sure how loud you were being.

Betelgeuse was shocked by the dirty noises that made their way out of your throat in long sighs and broken moans. Your face was red and teary-eyed and you were utterly _gone_, lost in the pleasure. He was swallowing _mouthfuls_ of your addicting slick at this point, and he was so thankful that he didn’t have to breath. He was painfully hard but was too invested in your pleasure to do anything about it just yet.

The feeling off needing to piss was getting stronger but you let it happen, bucking your hips up into Betelgeuse’s face. The feeling flooded your body, up your spine and radiated inside your skull. It danced down your arms and burst forth again from your cunt and down your thighs and all the way into your toes. This feeling was no longer like fire, but like lighting, striking your body repeatedly and constantly.

The feeling seemed to sit and simmer for a moment as your lover pulled away to wipe off his mouth and position himself over your body.

Betelgeuse was big. So big, in fact, that even when his pants were on and he was flaccid, there was a substantial bulge there. The stretch of his cock head was nothing but electrifying pleasure. You thought for a moment that you were paralyzed because you just _couldn’t move_. Betelgeuse tucked his head back into the crook of your neck and you were both sobbing into each other as he all but shoved the rest of himself into you.

Betelgeuse realized just how much power he held over your pleasure. He _knew _you hadn’t ever cum before (thanks to a game of drunk truth or dare) and the power this situation gave hime completely went to his head. Before he really knew what was happening, he was pressed all the way inside you and experiencing the most intense pleasure he’s felt since his first orgasm back when he was alive (and he really didn’t remember it so it didn’t really count anyway). He was in this weird space between cumming and not cumming and it wouldn’t take that much for him to start.

You felt yourself suddenly seize up and jerk and pulse. The immense simmering pleasure was magnified a hundred fold and you wrapped your leg’s around your lover’s thick hips. You were in complete euphoria. Your being was numb and all you could feel was _Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse._

As your orgasm continued, Betelgeuse whimpered into your neck broken curses and whiney pleads. Without pulling out, he humped into you as the accumulation of a good few months burst into your womb. He generally produced significantly more semen that any average man, ghost, or demon, but after saving up for so long, you were sure to be _flooded_.

Betelgeuse was pressing into you so hard, and with your recently-virgin pussy, his cum wasn’t able to leak out of you when you got full. You got full almost immediately. “Oh- _fuck_, gah-” he moaned into your neck as he felt your belly beginning to push up against his own.

You enjoying the sight of your lover enjoying himself as you regained your other senses. You decided that you liked the increasing feeling of fullness in your belly, even though you were way too fucked out to really get aroused again, especially after something so intense. You reached a hand up to thread in his pink hair, just softly playing with it as you cooled down.

When he had finally stopped cumming, you realized with dawning amusement that he had fallen asleep against you. You decided not to wake him back up just yet.

You knew that you loved him and he loved you, but actions speak so much louder than words, don’t they?

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> This is also on my Tumblr. Here's the link to my blog; https://thatscarletseven.tumblr.com


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